The Spectre of Gotham
by Renzin
Summary: Maria Coast returns to Gotham after 18 years, cold, haunted but most of all lonely. She leaves...a legend. Along the way, she meets friends, foes, and some that can be thought of as both. But when Maria finds that her demons have never left, will she find out the hard way that she's no better? Joker/OC VMaroni/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC's intellectual properties, only this storyline and my original characters.**

 **The idea of 'Carmine's boys' comes from** ** _littlebatgirl's_ story _Original Sin_** **, so please check out this brilliant fanfic!**

 **That being said, this story deals with rape, paedophilia, PTSD, swearing and torture, so please find another fanfic to read if these are not your cup of tea. I've tried to make this story equal parts humour, adventure and with some romantic elements, but overall this is a story about a tortured soul running on instincts. I don't want their actions to be taken as my opinion on the correct moral high ground; my aim is to depict a messed up, emotionally retentive person grow and interact with the shit life throws at her.**

* * *

 **And So It Begins**

* * *

 _To whom it may concern_

 _Enclosed are the thoughts and confessions of Sergeant Maria Viola Coast, otherwise known as The Spectre of Gotham. Please respect the wishes of the deceased to allow public access to this document from hereon out, and that the original literature falls under the possession of whoever remains of the Ghiandoni family._

 _Please note that the following accounts are as accurate and candid as the author is aware, and that the personal opinions and thoughts recorded are not meant to offend the reader, but to provide insight to those who wish it._

* * *

My first memories are…abstract. More base feelings than anything; they are what I know now to be bitter winds hitting my face, the constant motion of my carrier running. Dogs howling in chase. Sharp branches slapping against my exposed face.

The first time I remember a 'home', it's a children's home where I now know sat on Trumans Lane, in the Narrows of Gotham City. The layers of grey seem to collapse around each room, and I find myself sitting in the corner with building blocks between my legs. For a reason I cannot remember, one day I slip through the black metal fence and run across the street. Within minutes, I am hopelessly lost.

* * *

 _Maria sniffed noisily as she stumbled along, hugging herself for warmth. She doesn't really think she's ever been anything but lonely; but now, with so many strangers walking around her swiftly, it's worse than ever. The strap of her left shoe is starting to dig in painfully. As the sun begins to wither, so do the crowds and Maria starts to cry loudly, obnoxiously so. Whenever other kids cried at home, there was always an adult who came rushing, but here, Maria stays invisible apart from some_ _businessmen_ _scowling down as they pass her._

 _Until a large hand rests on her curly head. She yelps and stumbles around, to find a thin man with a heavy brow kneeling over. His face is pockmarked and slightly red from a bad shave, but he gives Maria a wide smile and tuts. "You look a little lost. Is you're uh…Mom around sweetheart?"_

 _Maria exhales painfully, suddenly hot with shame. She doesn't want to say that her Mummy and Daddy are gone, she's been left behind. So she shakes her head, and whines when the thin man tuts again and starts pulling Maria closer, his thumbs large enough to rest on her ears. He sighs dramatically, then leans in to Maria, ignoring her flinch. "It's a little cold out here. Maybe I could take you home then, huh? Do you like pizza? We can get some on the way."_

 _Despite the heavy feeling in Maria's gut, she perks up at the mention of pizza. She's never had a single slice, but her favourite thing in the world is the smell of hot dough cooking from the takeaway next to her. With that in mind, Maria sniffs and nods her head._

 _The man's grip is too large to be comfortable, encasing her hand in his fist. The car he takes her to is fun though - he even lets her sit in the front seat! The man, who tells her his name is Bobby, is notably crouched under the low ceiling of the Volvo. He continuously talks to Maria, asking what she likes to do, does she have friends, and where does she live._

 _"I live at St Mary's." Maria answers. There's a pause, then Bobby gives a throaty chuckle that makes Maria uneasy._

 _He gives her a warm smile that crinkles so much, she can't see his eyes. "Oh I know Mary's house. You're much too_ pretty _for that place!"_

 _Maria doesn't really know why Bobby would say that, but she smiles because no one has ever told her that_ she _is pretty._

 _It isn't for another 15 minutes that Maria starts to think that she couldn't have wondered this far from the children's home. Bobby immediately tells her that he knows the best pizza place in the world, and this detour won't take long! So Maria stays placid for another while, until it is so dark outside she knows that the adults at St Mary's_ must _be looking for her._

 _They drive further and further into the darker streets of the Narrow, past rotting warehouses and abandoned estates until they cross onto wide motorways. By the time Bobby drives off onto a smaller one-way road, Maria is fighting to stay awake. She wants to ask Bobby where the pizza place is, as her tummy is growling, but looking at his sallow figure hunched in the darkness, she suddenly loses her courage. Eventually, they pull along a muddy patch of trees. Maria watches nervously as Bobby slows the car until a poorly lit gate slides open. She starts to squint to see outside, and wonders whether she could run home if she pulls open her door now._

 _But just as she starts to entertain this thought, Bobby stops the engine with a lurch and grins down at her. "C'mon sweetheart, we made it."_

 _"Bobby," Maria swallows as he unbuckles her and lifts her over the gearbox through his car door. "I don't know if I'm allowed this far from-"_

 _It's as if Bobby has shut down, she thinks, as he suddenly tugs her around wide grey building. Even when she stumbles and cries out, Bobby continues with a grip that is_ too tight. _They ascend a set of stone steps to a metal door. He pauses, flicking through a set of keys with his free hand. Maria repeats his name anxiously, but in the darkness as she is ignored yet again, she gets the horrible sensation that she has made a terrible mistake._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: See first chapter + warnings.**

* * *

 **Some Things Never Stop Bleeding**

* * *

A violently loud alarm rocks Maria awake, setting her upright and narrowly missing the ceiling. There's a mixture of natural light from the slotted window by her head and the government approved warehouse lights. They hang along the centre of the barracks that Maria and her squad has been calling home for half a year, though in Maria's case the term 'home' is used rather flippantly. The long-limbed woman presses her flat palms against the granite sealing to pop her back, then slides herself down in one fluid, albeit sleepy, movement. Her bottom bunk partner grunts in greeting, which Maria returns absentmindedly as both begin to efficiently dress for the day.

Joining the army had not exactly been a life ambition for Maria, but it was a decision that she was proud of at this point in time. As soon as she was 17, she hitchhiked with a muddy Adidas bag of clothes and enrolled within her first day out on her own. Learning everything she could at school had always been something she cherished but…there was a lot to escape, and what better way than getting sent overseas?

After making it through boot camp (and losing two molars along the way), Maria ended up in a military base in South Korea where she applied for online engineering courses and found herself angling into the materials' science department. A six-month posting soon turned to two years on the outskirts of Seoul, and by the time she returned to New Jersey, she was a 20-year-old materials engineer.

She holed up in cheap housing by the state border that was popular for armed forces to settle, living the most mundane couple of months in her life so far (she even took a cooking class), then found herself deployed this time to Afghanistan for another three years.

This is where Maria found herself now, Sergeant in the US army patiently living out her life in the name of a nation she had barely spent half her life in. Of course, there was more to Maria than that, but to the other soldiers in the 148thInfantry Regiment, there seemed little else to know. All there was of importance to know was that Sergeant Coast was a tall, almost mute woman when she was not required to act her rank, and spent most of her time reading beaten up books and wasting all her change on what chewing gum she could find.

Being curious about the loner of the squad, someone had managed to weasel out from Coast that she was a foster child and had been moved to South England when she was younger, hence the soft Queen's English she always surprised people with. There was also the random gossip that everyone thought she may be Italian or Indian if it weren't for her alarming paleness, but after years of military service, she was burnt red more often than not.

Most of the men had at one point ogled or talked about Coast's looks, but otherwise, there didn't seem to be much else to know. She knew that she was attractive, but it had done her little good in her life.

Coast was known as a fair superior that would coexist with anyone who wouldn't bother her much. Other than that, Maria Coast was just another body in military boots, and that's just how she wanted it.

As Maria barks at her squad to follow her to the courtyard for morning drills, she salutes her own superiors and continues her morning in the same routine that had ruled her adult life. The base alarm rings again, and her squad are dismissed for breakfast while she is pulled aside by the First Lieutenant Ruthman. "Meeting at 0900 hours, Sergeant." He informs her briefly before joining the ever-growing food line.

The meeting Maria finds herself in is within one of the temporary offices on the bases, which always irritates her nose with the smell of hot plastic. She darts her eyes across the room, noting how quite a few personnel are called, then goes to stand tall next to Ruthman in her own stiff manner. After another few moments of lazy chatter, a man with heavy wrinkles and leathery skin steps forward and begins the meeting; General Forbes is a man that Maria respects for his cool way of handling his duties, and the strong patriotism he shows in every speech she's heard him give. Most of the meetings they have are more or less mundane, however, the air of this one has Maria listening intensely.

After pursing his lips slightly, Forbes begins. "Two hours ago, as you all know, we received communications with missing squad Amaro after being out of contact with them for over a week. Their mission was a normal escorting of goods in a supposedly patrolled route, so we were not expecting any sort of resistance."

Another superior to Maria spoke up at that point. "Sir, what did Amaro report?"

"Apparently, they were ambushed by the enemy force and had to abandon all put two of the supply trucks." Forbes scowled at this, "I want two squads to meet them at the Ritu town to provide backup for their return. They've reported three causalities and one private with a critical wound to his back."

"Squad Lynx and myself are rested and ready to go, Sir." A Corporal at the back stepped forward eagerly, but Forbes shook his head.

"Not after last time, Davies." A couple of the meeting's attendees murmured in agreement; squad Lynx were known to have several privates with attitude problems. "Sergeant Coast, prepare your boys. Make sure you bring the medics. You too Sergeant Tully."

Maria agreed sharply, and as soon as the meeting was over, entered her end of the barrack, pausing at the door as she did. Her squad was a relatively small one, with 7 members including her as squad leader. There's was a mixed-sex squad; there was Roman Putz, a stocky man with a hatred for tobacco, Freddy Lintman, who would trade his mother for a soggy cigarette packet, Gita Doe, the most sarcastic woman Maria had ever known, her sister Lindsey who was almost worse, and finally Mickey Smith and Ronald Peckerman who were constantly competing to flirt with anything with a vagina.

Maria had been with this sordid lot since she can to her current base, and quickly found they were far more unaware of personal space than the soldiers at her posting in Korea. She had admittedly grown fond of them, but it wasn't in her nature or anyone's best interest for her to start…bonding with them.

With a deep breath, Maria summons the non-existent loudmouth in her and storms in. "All right you Mama's boys and girls, get your asses up! We've got a mission briefing in 5!"

"Ooooh, Coast is feeling fiery today!" Ron calls from his bunk.

There's a dramatic howl from Mickey. "Peckerman you fucktard, eyes off my woman!"

"Fuck you, Smith!"

"Fuck both of you degenerates." Maria snaps back, suppressing a smirk when they try not to flinch under her heavy glare. "You better be exactly where I want you today, or so help me Ruthman's gonna know who's been putting cereal in his pillowcases."

Raucous laughter bounces around the barracks at that, with Ron and Mickey cajoling back. Meanwhile, both Doe sisters jump up ready first bickering to line up in front of Maria as she glares boredly at them. Putz is next, his tall frame comically dwarfing Maria even at her 5'11. Finally, always just moments before Maria finishes her countdown, Smith and Puckerman join them.

Maria informs them of their mission parameter in her usual stiff manner. "We're going to be working with Tully's lot this time. Putz, I want you and the other medic in good communication. As of 5 hours ago, we have three causalities and one man shot. They should be safe at Ritu for now. Suit up and pack for an escort mission with medium risk of enemy contact." When her squad stayed where they were, not realising she was done, Maria glared sharply. "Now, soldiers!"

The rest of them quickly made themselves busy.

There were three things to know about missions here. Firstly, there would always be sand. It seeped into Maria's shoes and underwear and lay on her sweaty braided bun that was tucked tightly under her black balaclava and helmet. Secondly, no matter where they went, the roads were made of shit and were the worst for problematic back pains. And finally, no matter how many times you think you're on a streak of easy missions, it never lasts for long.

"Take cover!" Maria roars to hers and Tully's squad, throwing herself behind the pathetic piece of stone that was being peppered with bullets.

Red sand was thick like fog in the air, and her eyes stung something fierce because of it. It was just her luck that not only had Ritu been surrounded by the enemy that had tracked their missing squad, but that somehow without them knowing, the Town had also been harbouring firearms for them. As soon as her squad arrived and left the safety of their armoured truck, they had met the sight of their missing dead squad being dragged across the town square. Before with could even retreat back to their vehicles, half of Tully's squad went down, including their medic. The rest of them had been stuck at a stalemate with the enemy until stray grenades had blown up one of the trucks and forced Maria's remaining men to scatter.

"Peckerman, Doe, with me!" Maria ordered as they reached a narrow stone staircase up to the top of the town's watchtower and mill. "Putz, you cover our backs. Smith and Doe, I want you to hold the ground for us."

"Got it, Sergeant!"

"Yes Sir!"

After reaching the rotting door at the top, Maria signalled to Peckerman and Doe they took either side of the doorframe. On her signal, Peckerman threw his foot against the door and flew in. The Doe with her, Gita, followed behind Maria as the followed in, running straight into two yelling men; both were armed and fired immediately, but both fell swiftly. The three of them cleared the floor and began to head up to the top when they heard the agonised cry of the other Private Doe.

Gita swung around with alarm. "Linds-" Maria is a yard away from Gita as she watches bullets rip into her face rapidly, causing her to fall backwards out of the broken window. Peckerman and Maria threw themselves back from the archway they had passed. The former swore in a rage before shooting around the corner and ducking back.

"This is going to shit Sergeant!"

"Real astute of you!" Maria snapped back, copying her teammate and firing her own run. She huffed dry air out of her lungs, then looked Peckerman in the eyes. "There's about four of them in there. Are you good for ammo?" The grimace he gave was entirely telling.

Before Maria could say anything else, there was a sharp scuffle from across the room, and over her head, Peckerman's eyes widened. Another flurry of gunfire causes him to return fire just as Maria catches sight of a small figure stumbling across the floor.

A pained roar of rage comes from one of the armed men as the small boy's body shudders with the impact of shots. There is a horrible drawn moment in the air as Peckerman and Maria are frozen, then the raging enemy throws himself at Peckerman so quickly he takes by surprise. In the close proximity, both guns go off and an elbow stuns Maria to the temple. She falls out of her cover and rolls with a sudden burst of speed as the two remaining men shoot at her. She returns fire and takes down one as she charges at them, knocking the second in the stomach with her rifle. But as she moves to aim for his head, scuffling warns her to duck the fist of a man behind her. Maria throws an elbow into the ribs of her new attacker but misses with the shot she aimed for his feet, and opts to duck away and gain some distance.

However as she does, her eyes hand on the unnatural angle of Peckerman's neck as he lies against the wall. There's a pause that seems out of place in a war zone, where the two men in the room watch Maria stare into her comrade's empty eyes. Then, she hears a snide laugh. It dredges up dark memories of horrible, sadistic people that Maria _hates_. The man that had fought and killed Peckerman sneers at her; he leers in his native language, only the vague meaning reaching Maria, while the other man laughs.

Something all-encompassing sinks through Maria's body, a feeling she hasn't felt for years. There's a shaky sort of rage that floods her; with the smell of heavy blood growing, and the echoing jeers of Peckerman's killers, Maria decides to give in to those urges that she's suppressed for so long…

And as the switch in her mind changes direction, the two men stiffen as _something_ fills the room. Something dark, and heavy like tar, that makes the air suddenly to sickly to take in. Their breaths gurgle into gasps as before their eyes, they see demonic red eyes glowering from under Maria's helmet. The dirty curls of around her face seem to wither and age to silver, her skin matching as a low hiss escapes the wide serrated mouth of what was Sergeant Maria.

One man starts to yell and stumble away. He doesn't make it more than a step before Maria is on him, clawed hands digging into his eyes with a roar that cannot be human. If he could escape this, the killer of Peckerman would remember for the rest of his life how the demon he saw tore his friend apart, organs twisted in knotting skin with enough spilt blood to paint the wall completely. He would never forget how the female demon stabbed into her victim's neck with her teeth, moaning as she suckled like a hungry bear.

Of course, the killer of Private Peckerman would only have to remember for a short time yet, as Maria turned her bloody eyes onto him next.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: See first chapter + warnings**

* * *

 **Outcast**

* * *

 _"You are a beauty." Maria cringes and tries to pull away from the new, scarier man._

 _"B-bobby? Where are we?" She whimpers, but her only 'friend' just smirks and leans back against the wall._

 _The man in front of her terrifies her, something in his manner screaming at her to run. She knows that he is a bad man; his eyes are nasty and his teeth are large like tombstones. But most of all, Maria hates how he keeps rubbing her shoulders in a way that feels violating._

 _"Now girlie, you ain't gonna say hello? Don't be so rude." The evil man leans further in and grins toothily. "I have to admit, I have a bit of a temper when it comes to_ disrespect. _Why don't you ask Jack here?"_

 _The man roughly twists Maria around to face a line of shaking boys against one wall of the room. They are all dressed in scrappy trousers without shirts, and are shivering noticeably because of it. None of them look up, but Maria can see how their rib cages stick out and their fists tremble._

 _One boy, however, is crumpled on the ground and moaning horrifically. All Maria can see is that he looks very tall for how skinny he is and that his hair is a mess of dirty blond tresses._

 _Maria whines but cannot get away as the evil man pulls her forward to stand in front of the crying boy. "Jack thought something was_ funny _today, but wouldn't share the joke with us. Now I thought that was pretty fuckin'_ rude _of him, so I made sure that Jack would remember that joke for the rest of his fuckin' life." He struck out like a snake and cackled as the little boy shrieked when his head was wrenched back by his hair. "Wanna see his smile now?!"_

 _Jack's face will never leave Maria's mind, no matter how much she wishes it would. The little boy's pale fingers are desperately pressed against his lower face but are covered in enough blood to look like he is wearing red gloves. His brown eyes strike Maria's, dilated with agony and indescribable, ferocious terror; but all she can focus on is the deep cuts that bisect Jack's lower face, stretching them into a blood Cheshire grin._

 _Finally, Maria screams._

* * *

The last time Maria had been in New Jersey, her face had practically been glowing at the idea of leaving. She now returns three years later with a visage more ghostly than ever, her eyes dull and resigned. Each breath she used seemed sour. Everyday, Maria trudges through her life like she herself died on her last mission.

The mission had been deemed a disaster, of course. Of the 25 soldiers involved, only four made it back alive including Maria. Out of her squad, only Roman and Mickey had survived. She had found Roman protecting an unconscious Mickey as she dragged Peckerman's body back down with her while she was utterly covered in blood. She had terrified the remaining villagers, looking more a devil than human.

 _Which really, I am._ Maria thought bitterly.

They were picked up hours later once the gunfire had settled, and that was the last time Maria saw the remains of her squad. She had tried to march to General Forbes' office in a daze to give her report, but was sharply ordered to shower and rest first. Maria declined the latter until her report had been transcribed, nearly collapsing afterwards. She woke almost 13 hours later to be informed that they were sending her home. Maria cried for the first time in years at that news, but her tears now felt bitter.

In New Jersey, she was formally examined and forced to recount the mission again and again (obviously lying as to why the tower had mysteriously caught fire - and conveniently disposed of her handiwork - as their evacuated) until finally Maria was deemed to be suffering from PTSD, and thus was honourably (and forcibly) discharged from the army.

Two weeks after losing her life in the army, Maria turned 23. Alone in her apartment, she stared at the wall, not bothering to repress the events of her last mission any more. She had worked so hard to retain control of her thirst, and now this? Was her discipline so _weak?_ Peckerman's twisted head flashed through her vision, as Maria came to the conclusion that while she believed she should feel guilty for tearing apart those men, she did not.

It was in her nature after all.

There are several weeks of Maria lying alone in her apartment, ordering food in and ignoring every request to attend the counselling that the army was providing her. One day, she gets a phone call and recognises the wretched voice of Mikey Smith on the other line. "Sergeant? It's…it's Smith." Maria hangs up after a heavy silence. She knows this hole. This is what she gets for letting people in, even in small amounts. They all died, and around her, it was usually gruesome with her penchant for bad luck.

However, Mikey's call does prompt her to try and move on in her own way. One day, she gets the urge to open her bedroom window and climb onto the slanted roof. From there, she climbs up and wedges herself in the shingles and top and breaths in the cold air.

For a moment, Maria finds her mind is clear, and she relishes it. At some point in her childhood, her hatred of being contained inside had led her to start climbing about the neighbourhood; one of her neighbours had even complained that she acted too much like an overgrown cat.

At night, the air is so different from the sandy fogs of her last tour. Soon, Maria is spending most of her nights throwing herself over roofs and buildings, relishing the sting of swinging around frozen pipes and rolling onto slippery roofs. She catches her reflection in the shine of metal chimney and gets caught in her own wild gaze. After a moment, she lets the switch in her mind flip again, and watches, transfixed, as her skin and hair fade and ripple like a monochrome film.

Maria kneels against the metal structure. She's never been one to seek out mirrors, and finds that she can't remember ever savouring her reflection as she does now. The whites of her eyes and irises are now a deep red that seems to swallow her face and glow menacingly. When she bares her teeth, she almost jumps, swallowing as she gets a glimpse of what the men she's killed would've have seen in their last moments. Even, serrated fangs line her mouth, the canines long enough to have a slight curve to them. Maria twists her head side to side, taps her teeth, runs her hair through her pale fingers, and rubs her fingers over the velvet surface of her granite skin. Somehow, she gets the feeling that this is somewhat important.

An age could've passed before she finally finds some sort of contentment. The demonic looking woman stands and slowly wanders back over the roofs of the council estate until she can shimmy into her bedroom. And as she sleeps that night, something settles in Maria's chest.

By the end of the week, Maria had shoved her meagre belongs back into her old Adidas bag, paid the last of her rent and walked to the bus stop to take the next train to Gotham City.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: see first chapter + warnings**

* * *

 **An Unexpectedly** **Friendly Welcome**

* * *

When Maria's bus pulls into Gotham Central Station, the morning light is pulling the early risers of the city along the roads and pavements. She debates wasting cash while she's still jobless, but ends up huffing and getting a cab that takes her across the bustling city to a tall shop front. Maria digs out her cash, but is startled when the cab driver denies it.

"You're a soldier, right?"

Maria blinks but then remembers her trousers are military slacks, and the thermal jumper she's wearing has her rank and regiment on it. "Uh…yes."

The cab driver doesn't seem fazed by Maria's social skills. "Hey, my boy just joined up last month! The ride's free, Sergeant."

Maria swallows, slightly embarrassed. "Sir, that's very kind, but-"

"Seriously, I ain't taking that from you. You guys do enough." He gives Maria a warm smile, but it just serves to make her feel worse. All she can think about is this guy's son being just another Peckerman, waiting to be blown up. Finally, Maria thanks her driver and leaves, discreetly stuffing her cash into the pocket on the back his seat.

Once she's out of the car, Maria takes in the storefront ahead of her. It's a warmly paint wooden front, with old school golden lettering identifying the shop as a Tailors. Mannequins on either side of the door display artfully crafted suits and long dresses in rich colours. As Maria pushes open the door, a gentle but insistent tinkle from the bell echoes across the shop. The inside is again full of wooden furniture, with a wide counter and reels of fabric on display. On the other side, Chesterton chairs lean against the wall. From a dimly lit corridor ahead, Maria sees a waddling older man rush towards her. "Hello, hello! Welcome. How can I help you today, young lady?"

Maria accepts the hand that is thrust towards her and is bemused to have her hand kissed lightly. "Mr Ghiandoni, I take it? My name is Maria Coast. We spoke about the room available?"

The older man's incredibly bushy eyebrows shot up, the rest of his face rising up as if on strings. "Ahh, so you are the young lady we spoke to!" Sudden a loud crash could be heard from further into the building. "Eliza!"

 _"Whaaaaaat?"_ A horse woman's voice echoed towards them.

With a huff of irritation, Maria watched fascinated as her new acquaintance sucked in a breath and yelled obscenely loudly. "Eliza! Come over here!"

"Why should I?!"

"Are you kidding me?" He muttered again, before screaming back, "Becaaaase, Miss Coast is here!"

A sudden collection of smashes and bangs answered them, then stomping down creaking stairs. Finally an incredibly short lady hurries over to them and gasps dramatically at the sight of Maria. "Oh my! Look at you! Such a beauty!" Maria flushed with embarrassment. Suddenly the older woman turned on the man. "And what do you think you're doing, making our new tenant get a cold from standing by the door? Honestly Sal! Sweetie, follow me, let's get you warm."

'Sal' grumbled in protest, but Maria doesn't hear his response as she tries to keep up with the constant stream of words from her captives' mouth. Finally, the monologue ends and Maria is ordered by Eliza to sit and have some breakfast, because ' _honestly don't they feed you in the army?!'_

Maria does as she's told, amused but more than a little nervous around the Ghiandonis.

For the next two days, Maria feels as if she's in a different world. The Ghiandonis are overtly loud the entire time, which is taking a lot for Maria to get used to, and it's somewhat confusing how much they fight then end up laughing hysterically within minutes. Sal, the artist behind their tailoring shop, proves to be a typical Italian American man in his 60s, with a fondness for good cooking and opera. Both his wife and himself are comically short and round, with greying hair and leathery tans (Maria has been called down numerous times to get cans from high shelves in the kitchen).

Maria is feeling very out of her comfort zone, but she's not necessarily hating living with such lively landlords as she would've expected. It makes her uncomfortable how Eliza is constantly trying to force her to have several servings, but she finds herself enjoying it after a couple of times. The only real rules are that she eats 'with the rest of thee family' and helps out with chores, and considering the ridiculously low rent, its a miracle Maria is staying here. A somewhat comfortable dynamic is forming where Maria can be her usual loner self so long as she ventures out of her room enough times to let Eliza spoil her with her rich cooking. The Ghiandonis seem to have immediately accepted her for some reason, but Maria isn't complaining; she's just not used to people being so friendly.

The room Maria is renting out is more than worth whatever change in pace. Sal apparently served in the army in his youth, and ever since clearing the attic to his home, he's been renting out the available space to discharged soldiers returning home. Maria finds that comforting, to know that she hasn't lost contact with her army life; she can see the comradeship in the way Sal folds fabric, shines his leather shoes and sometimes refers to fondly her as "Serge".

Maria wakes up on her third day in Gotham with a slow inhale. Her mind lazily works to tell her that Eliza is up early again, cooking something with buttery garlic, bacon and bread. The older lady has already proven herself to be the best cook that Maria had ever met (though she doesn't really know any others).

Maria closes her eyes briefly, feeling her sore body roll across the bed like a cat. She savours the warm lines of sun falling onto her, but eventually heaves herself up firmly. The room she's rented is better than she could've hoped or ever afforded if in another circumstance. It's all exposed stone and timber beams like the rest of the old building, with several radiators that gurgle at night. Her dark wooden bed sits against the wall facing the door and is made with thick red bedding. Matching curtains are layered over a large bay window to the left, which is the street side. Maria can already hear the city ambience from outside, coming in with a crisp breeze. On the opposite side of the room, there's a narrow brick fireplace (not yet used), a door leading to her mint tiled bathroom, and a slightly battered wooden desk and chair set. The entrance of the bedroom is wedged between a chest of drawers and several nailed up shelves, which Maria is planning to dust at one point.

Yes, she was very lucky to have the living situation she had, and it was certainly better than the last time she was in Gotham. With a grimace, Maria dismisses that thought to get ready for the day.

When she meanders downstairs, she finds an already familiar sight; Sal is sitting reading the newspaper while Eliza fits around the open kitchen and singing to the radio. Maria murmurs a soft good morning as she enters: She's met with enthusiastic returns.

 _"Bella,_ come sit down! I'll have your breakfast done in a moment." Eliza says as she herds Maria next to her husband.

Maria smiles gratefully. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Nonsense!" Eliza exclaims. "Stay where you are! You're so thin; it's a wonder what they were feeding you. Why, when Sal came back from the army, believe me when I tell you he gained a few stone!"

Sal scowled up her. "And I keep tellin' ya Liz, that weight was all muscle!"

"Of course dear." She smiles back sardonically. Placing a warm plate in front of Maria, she ignores her husband's grumbling. "Any plans for today?"

Maria nods, then after a pause forces herself to expand on her affirmative. "I've got that interview at Berk Industries, so I'll be heading out soon. I can pick up something from the market on the way back?"

Sal hummed in thought. "What's the job?"

"Lab assistant in the Materials Science department."

Eliza came to join them with a pot of coffee. "Oh of course! You know, I was saying to Sal how clever you are to get a degree while on tour. Didn't we say that, Sal?"

Her husband grunted while Maria blushed slightly. "Not a lot of lady engineers around. Don't let them mess you around, ya hear me?"

"Oh don't be so dramatic!" Eliza snapped before Maria could answer. "Maria, could you get some things for me when you're out? I'll write you a list."

"She ain't a slave, woman!" Sal drawled, quickly retreating behind his paper at the look Eliza threw him.

The younger woman snorted, relaxing as she watched the couple's dynamic. It reminded her of the banter her old squad used to throw around. As she swallowed another bite of her bacon sandwich, Eliza's gaze suddenly glinted towards her, "You know, Maria, maybe you can pick up some clothes on the way as well, hm? I think there's a Macys next block over."

Maria looked down at her pressed uniform and polished boots, then shrugged. It wasn't like she had any other formal clothes for an interview.

Maria found herself marching out of the underground and into the business district of Gotham. The journey had been quite the experience; people stared openly at the Sergeant as she stood like a statue by the metal railings, muttering around her curiously. After all, the only military that came through Gotham was the national guard, and she was obviously in the wrong uniform for that. The underground itself was confusing; she didn't see the point of having to buy a ticket instead of using cash, but it still took her to where she wanted so there wasn't really much point in complaining.

Even though she knew that she couldn't spend all her time in her fatigues, Maria felt relaxed in her uniform. She usually didn't like being stared at, but on the other hand, she liked being known as a soldier. To Maria, people weren't looking at _her,_ but the hard work and position she represented. To the other passengers, she was a towering embodiment of a proud Sergeant, and so they stare in mild wonder. A group of high schoolers ogled her in one corner. When the carriage abruptly shuddered, a frail lady was caught firmly before she would hit the ground. Maria steadies her with a polite smile, "Ma'am." With that, the other passengers fell into another round of muttering.

Berk industries turns out to be a modesty stacked glass tower at one corner of a busy square. Maria's eyes flit over the modern granite fountain in the centre and the myriad of sharply dressed businessmen. When she enters the foyer, she had her choice of several reception desks, but heads to one unoccupied receptionist. "Hello Ma'am, could you direct me to the Materials Science Department?"

The middle-aged receptionist looks a little startled being referred to as 'Ma'am' by a woman who seems to be the same age, but dismisses it with a polite smile. "Of course, but could I have your name and business? You'll have to wear a visitors' badge."

Maria nods. "Sergeant Maria Coast. I'm here for an interview." Belatedly, she realises that her rank really wasn't necessary.

A few moments later, Maria is walking out of the elevator, past rows of glass walls and silver office doors. As she walks past, her silhouette draws the eyes of the office workers, some discretely taking their coffee breaks to watch where Maria is going. Finally, through some convoluted corridor, Maria finds yet another reception desk and is sent to a set of blue leather chairs to await her interviewer.

Maria sits rigidly and stares at the square clock ahead for exactly 5 minutes and 32 seconds. At that point, a man with a slight limp comes towards her. Maria takes in his receding ginger hair and goatee, as well as the rolled up sleeves of his navy suit, before politely smiling and standing.

"Sorry about the wait! You must be Miss Coast, correct? Or is Sergeant appropriate?" He says half-jokingly.

Maria forces herself not to stop smiling. "Maria is fine. Thank you for seeing me today, Mr…."

"James Wilson. Shall we get you settled? Thirsty? No, ok then."

Maria is somewhat grateful to be led away from the boredom of the reception to a smaller office painted a warm blue. She mirrors James as he sits behind his glass desk. Most of the interview runs through Maria's CV and college grades ("Well you certainly are qualified!" James jokes) and getting a feel for her. She knows she comes off as competent and a hard worker but has a habit of acting cold (it really isn't natural for Maria to hold a smile this long). Eventually however, the interview is over.

"How about I show you where the fun stuff happens?" James says as he gets up. At Maria's agreement, he leads them to a floor below ground level where the workshops and labs are based. As soon as they stepped out, the distinct smell of machine oils, burnt plastics and sterilising alcohol hits them.

Maria thought she could get used to it.

* * *

 **Thank you to the reviewers!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: See first chapter + warnings**

* * *

 **Beautiful Snakes And Boys That Bleed**

* * *

 _Fear and time has a funny way of jumbling the mind. Maria remembers being dragged away from Bleeding Jack and thrown into a closet-sized room with a thin folded mattress in the corner and a bucket next to the door. She remembers crying loudly until someone kicks at her door and tells her to '_ Shut the fuck up! _'. She remembers trying to pray even though she didn't know a single sermon or whether she believed in gods._

 _The next few days are hazy, with Maria joining some other girls as they are marched to a mess hall and back to their rooms till dinnertime. They are made to wear a thin cotton gown that clings uncomfortably, but it's not as bad as the men that stroke her hair every time she passes and laugh. When they do, she has to bottle up her anger and terror lest they seen her disgusted sneer and tight knuckles. She instinctively knows that she must do whatever she can to not stand out._

 _As Maria is taken back to her room on the second night, she passes the procession of captured boys in the corridor._

 _She spots the gangly hunched form of Bleeding Jack at the back of the line. Their eyes meet, and Maria realises that he is now_ Bandaged _Jack, because all she can see of his mummified face are his bruised eyes and tufts of hairs. Horrifically, Maria realises that the evil man was right because even now a demonic U shape has seeped through the bandages on Jack's mouth; he is permanently wearing a bloody smile for a joke he must deeply regret._

 _As they pass, Maria's soft fingers brush over Bandaged Jack's twitching hand, and she fiercely decides that she won't be spending another night in this hell._

* * *

"Ya met the team already?" Sal says incredulously. "I don't see the point in grinding your tails then, Serge. They're not gonna waste all that time showing you the entire setup just to hire someone else."

"I thought it was a bit much, but I don't really have experience with this stuff." Maria explained through a mouthful of carbonara. She nervously swallows at the look Eliza throws at her. "Sorry."

Eliza laughs airily. "Oh don't mind me, dear. I just don't want my husband's nasty manners to rub off on you."

"That is unfair and you know it!" Sal growls.

His response is a threatening smile. "Do I Sal? You aren't the one who scrubs tomato stains out of your shirts."

Maria's mouth twitches.

 _"Speaking_ of clothes, I notice that you are still in those men's slacks, Maria."

Sal smirks while Maria freezes mid-bite. "Errrrr…"

Eliza takes this as utter complacency. "Why don't we go shopping tomorrow hmm? I'm sure you have a lovely figure somewhere under there."

"Well-"

"Lovely! Glad that's decided!" Eliza claps her hands together with far too much cheer. "You can help me get the vegetables tomorrow as well, _Bella,_ since my husband is too lazy to do it."

"Ya know I have _clients,_ Liz! I don't sit on my ass all day!"

"Well, you could've fooled me, Sal."

* * *

Maria cringes at the racks of women's wear ahead of her. She could count the missions she had been more nervous that she is now on one hand, and it doesn't help that the latest fashion seems to be neon cutouts.

"Oh don't pull that face _Bella,_ I'm not asking you to go to war." Eliza chastises as she runs her hands over some nearby hangers.

"I wish you would," Maria grumbles. "I've already done that anyway."

"Now, don't be such a sour puss when we haven't even started choosing. Why don't you tell me what clothes you _do_ have, and we'll go from there. Maybe we can work out a signature look!"

Maria gingerly pushes back the burnt orange halter neck that Eliza is holding up to her. "I know it isn't that."

The older woman huffs and plants her hands on her fists. "Now don't be difficult, Maria."

She blushes a little and mutters an apology. "I've got my skivvies and a couple of tracksuits, then my uniform and a spare."

Eliza gives Maria a rather predatory look with a wide smile. "Well, why don't we start with some support for that lovely bosom of yours."

Maria rapidly pales.

* * *

After 3 hours in the department store and a detour for Maria to get a trolley, the two women march towards the changing room. Maria turns red as she endures the cold hands of an overly chatty retain worker measuring her bra size, but that isn't half as bad as Eliza convincing her to wear several sets of lacy bras and underwear (apparent cotton military bucket bras aren't satisfactory).

Despite Maria's mind fearing that it would only get worse after that, Eliza seems to be flexible with her passion for comfortable clothing. The light wash jeans with a slight flare are something Maria actually really likes, and she could quietly admit to herself that she was ok with something a little tight on her backside. The general trend of selection is compromise; Eliza would sneak in a red satin ¾ length dress, so long as Maria got to have green toe socks. Maria has to accept a lot of pencil skirts and V-neck cashmere jumpers, so long as Eliza stomachs a brown leather flat cap and a lot of flannel shirts.

Of course, overall Eliza wins the battle, so some items are unavoidable. One pair of black heels makes its way into the final cut as well, but Maria plans to use them as coat hangers once she discreetly nails them to her wall. There's also the visit to the makeup counter (which is all very confusing for Maria), where the only types she recognises are lipstick and eyeshadow.

Vaguely, Maria remembers Gita always wearing a bright red shade when they had a night off, but it usually was on half the men and women in the bar by the time they returned to the barracks. Maria gets a vague pang of pain when she picks up a tube of what looks to be the same shade, and Eliza must have picked up on the emotion in her face because she kindly smiles and tells Maria that it suits her.

Despite going through several traumas, Maria has somewhat enjoyed the day out with her landlord, though it does end on an odd note. As she tries on the last outfit (some loose black velvet trousers and a short black tank) the talkative retail worker turns to Eliza and says, "It must be so nice for you to have such a lovely young lady as a daughter."

The mistake is harmless; after all, Eliza and Maria both share traits of dark curly hair, heavyset eyes and large lips. But that doesn't stop a strange flicker in Eliza's face, and until they go to the checkout, she is uncharacteristically quiet.

Abruptly Maria blurts out "Let me cook dinner tonight."

Eliza looks up at her as they walk to the market, then laughs. "Oh _Bella,_ you don't need to do that! Besides, Sal and I were hoping that the three of us could go out tonight to celebrate your new job."

"But they haven't even given it to me." Maria says and is conveniently ignored.

"Oh, I forgot to say! A gentleman at Berk Industries called the landline. They want you in on Monday at 9." Eliza suddenly reaches up to pinch her cheek. "That reminds me, you need to get a phone!"

Maria grimaces, rubbing her cheek. "I'll get right on it."

As Eliza paints her face, Maria tries to focus on the spices in the older lady's perfume and not the urge to sneeze. Is this what people did every morning? She surely hoped wearing makeup wouldn't be expected at Berk.

Despite her self-consciousness, Maria doesn't bother to fight Eliza on wearing her new red dress (she's already beginning to realise life is much easier if you let Eliza drive); it sits tightly against her bare skin, softer than anything she's ever owned before. The cut according to Eliza is a classic one; it follows the voluptuous curve of Maria's hourglass frame, ending below her knees with a small frill. The top is made of triangular ruched straps on a sweetheart neckline, and the bodice is built to proudly frame her breasts.

"Why are you doing…all this?" Maria murmurs as soon as Eliza finishes with her lips. The look she gives Maria is complex, and she can't quite work out what it means.

As Eliza dips a new brush into a small pot of black liner, she sighs. "If there's anybody who deserves to be Cinderella for the night, it's you, _Bella."_

Maria frowns. "I'm not the kind of person who deserves anything. I think…maybe this is too much."

Eliza gently grasps her chin and pulls it up. The smile she gives is the sort that draws Maria into her dark eyes, and for a moment, she understands the beauty that Sal must have found when she was younger. _"Never_ say that. Don't even think it." She draws her small hand to the younger girl's hair, lovingly. "I know that look; I see it every day in Sal, ever since he came back to me. There's a reason you made it back, Maria, you mustn't feel this guilt."

"I didn't want to come back," Maria admits. Her voice drifts in a hoarse whisper. "When I became a soldier I wanted to leave everything behind. I didn't…I don't want to be what I used to be."

"Oh, Maria…"

She swallows and looks down so that her hair falls onto her ashamed face. "You and Sal have been so kind. I just don't understand why."

"Sometimes…when you get to our age, you see children like you, and it aches so much. When I look at you _Bella_ , I think, by God, how can her eyes cry without tears?" Eliza sighs softly, still stroking Maria's hair. "Then I think, it's a crime that a girl like you seems to think that there is nothing worth loving in this god fearing world."

"I don't think you really understand what I am," Maria says darkly. _"_ I've _…killed._ And it isn't because I'm sort of patriot; I _like_ knowing that I won, that I made it out and they couldn't touch me. I'm not some innocent little girl."

To Maria's disbelief, Eliza starts to chuckle. "Oh _my,_ I think Sal is really rubbing off on you. I'm not saying you need to be a perfect Angel, Maria; but I've met many nasty people in my life, and you, are not one of them."

Maria runs a hand through her hair. "I've definitely never met anyone like you, Mrs Ghiandoni."

To that, she gains an outright laugh. "I should hope not! What would I do if someone was trying to steal my identity? Can't have Sal falling for some hussy!" At Maria's small smile, Eliza hums and continues. "Now, enough of this! If we take any longer, my fool of a husband will go without us! I think I want your hair free, _Bella._ It's so long and curly, it'll be a shame to put it back up."

"What does _Bella_ mean?"

Eliza smiles fondly at her. "It means 'beautiful', Maria."

Maria stops herself from laughing bitterly. _Well wasn't that ironic?_ It didn't matter how lovely a rose bush was if there was a snake hiding in its leaves.

She sighs, letting Eliza's voice warmly wash over her, but couldn't help but agree with the dark whispers in her mind. If Eliza truly knew just what she was, it would be a different story; if she knew how only years of discipline kept Maria from gunning for the hot blood in her neck, then there would be no soft words from Eliza. Maria was aware that it was a matter of time before she slipped up, especially without the hard routine of the army to distract her; but then as she is lulled by Eliza's presence, Maria wonders whether it would be so hard to let go of the past and continue on as the top floor tenant of the Ghiandonis.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: see first chapter + warnings**

* * *

 **Uninvited Dinner Guests**

* * *

The three of them find themselves in a lively family run Spaghetti house two blocks away. Maria quickly catches on that her landlords are regulars, with the owner Donito coming over to enthusiastically hug them.

"Sal there you are! What the hell d'you think you're doing waiting here?! Get outta the street and sit down." Donito roars with open arms.

Sal laughs and returns the hug with several roughs pats on the other man's back. "S'good to see ya, Donnie. How's the wife? She still keeping you in check?"

"You bet my friend! Eliza, you look as beautiful as ever!"

She giggles and kisses his cheek. "Hello Donnie, it's good to see you."

Donito then notices Maria awkwardly following behind the trio. His eyes widen and he whistles. "Since when did'ya have a child with Marlon Brando, Eliza? Look at the peepers on this one!"

Eliza slaps his arm while Sal chastises their friend. "Hold off you _Bastardi._ Maria's our new live in, and she's skittish."

Maria at this point was bright red. "Pleasure to meet you." She mutters and held out her hand, only to flush even more when Donito kisses it as well.

"Sorry 'bout that doll, but it's not often we get ladies like you and Liz in here. Here, let me get your coats! I've got your favourites in today, so sit tight."

As soon as Donito has left them at a cosy table by the crackling fireplace, Maria shoots Sal a look. "I'm not skittish."

Sal returns the look. "Yeah, you are, Maria."

"Now don't start fighting before the food comes, you two." Eliza scolds them.

When the bread is brought out, Sal talks Maria through all the types, and which are better dipped in vinegar. She tries them all, surprised by the deliciousness in something as simple as bread.

Dinner is as filled with banter and laughter as they're dinners at home. Maria is slightly stiff in such a public place, but she comforted by the Ghiandonis relaxing presence. Sal gives her a knowing look at lets her sit where her back is to the wall without comment. Eliza laughs at the face Maria makes at the strong red wine they order. "You get used to it, _Bella._ We Italians like to eat rich!" She laughs, and Maria joins in. She distantly notes that she doesn't remember the last time she has been so carefree in public.

After a very filling meal and while Sal is ordering coffee, Maria gets up to the bathroom. She tries to ignore how these damned heels make her hips swing in a way that was all too obvious in her dress.

When she catches her image in the mirror while washing her hands, she is shocked. Is that really _her?_ The woman in the mirror is like an Emerico Imre Toth portrait; her lips are deep red and her cerulean eyes are drawn into a simple cat eye. The exposed flesh of her décolletage and arms are a soft white and display the necklace Eliza put on her, with its twinkling rubies and gold chain. Finally, her hair swings around her like a long main, dark curls glowing like gold in the bathroom lighting and artfully out of control all the way down to her backside.

 _That can't be me…I know I'm not hideous, but-_

A deafening bang shocks Maria out of her thoughts. There is not a second of hesitation – she _knows_ that sound. Her eyes narrow as she searches the room, then ah! With a sharp snap of inhuman strength, the tap head is torn off. Maria adjusts it in her hand as she slowly steps around the back of the door as over the screams and crashing glass, she hears footsteps on the other side.

The door swings open to hide her as a man with woman's pantyhose over his head storms in with a bat in his hands. He kicks open the two empty stalls and calls over his shoulder. "Nothing in here-"

Maria crosses the tiles between them in one bound and hooks an arm around the man's neck, slamming the fixture onto his skull in one dull blow. Just like that, his eyes roll. Maria leaves him tucked into a stall and closes the door, them moves towards the voice of a yelling man in the restaurant. She discretely looks through the crack in the door; Sal and Eliza are out of view, but she can see Donito shaking as a pistol is held up to his head. Several armed robbers, all wearing those ridiculous disguises, are leering at the workers and terrified guests of the restaurant as then kneel down.

The obvious leader is sneering down at Donito; other than his lack of pantyhose, he is dressed in a well-cut suit. A vertical cut on his chin quivers as his lips move. "Donnie, you didn't really think you could just ignore your friends, huh?" The boss smiles sardonically.

Donito licked his lips nervously. "That wasn't my intention, Mr Ricci."

"Oh really?" Ricci tilted his head mockingly. "Then why is my boss calling me about matters o' disrespect hmm?"

"T-There ain't none of that happening here, Mr Ricci."

He leans into Donito's sweating face. "Are you sure about that, Donnie?" He pauses, savouring this theatrical moment. "That ain't what Mr Maroni said to me. You wanna know what he said? _He_ said that you ain't paying back what you owe, and me, well, I think that's pretty shitty considering Mr Maroni more o' less sold ya' this place."

Donito swallows harshly. "I would never mean Mr Maroni any disrespect-"

"Don't bullshit me!" Ricci roars suddenly. A woman breaks into sobs at this. "You think you insult the Maroni family? Huh? _Huh!?"_ Each 'huh' earns Donito a loud slap.

Meanwhile, Maria uses the distraction to pull back and let the door creak open slightly. If this works-ah she can hear it is, as the closest mob member hears her and comes into the bathroom to investigate. In an identical manner, she knocks him down and catches his gun before it can clatter loudly. She turns it over in her hands, checks the chamber of the automatic, then moves back to kneel by the door. Maria watches the pacing mob outside. Timing it perfectly, she rolls out of the bathroom and under the nearest table; luckily for her, the restaurant had not been busy, so she is alone and hidden under the long white tablecloth.

Maria can see Donito still taking up Ricci's attention. Four other armed men are present, each at one corner of the room. One is standing close to Sal and Eliza as they huddle together. Maria's eyes narrow as the mob man runs the barrel of his gun over Eliza's pearl earrings.

With a swift breath, Maria brings up her own gun as soon as he pulls back. A pump of her trigger and he goes down in one motion sans an eye. In a flash of unnatural speed, Maria turns to Ricci and Donito; the latter stumbles back in shock as Ricci screams in agony, his hands cradling his blown up jaw.

The restaurant goes up in panic. The three remaining men wildly search around them while people scream. Some manage to make it through the main entrance in the confusion. At the same time, Maria slides out from under the table, shoots the furthest man's hands off (with his gun) and comes up to lunge at the closest. In one fluid motion, Maria rams the butt of her weapon up to the mobster's exposed chin. She follows it up with a kick to the chest (Eliza is going to kill her for whatever just tore) that sends him tumbling into the final man that had been running towards her. Both crash backwards, but before they can get up Maria lands two kicks to their head.

She almost relaxes at that moment, but a cold sting in her brain causes her to duck as a hail of bullets fly over her. From the kitchen two new men run out and charge.

Perhaps it's unfair that they have no idea what they're up against; but then again, these men have threatened two people that Maria is rather fond of, and ruined a lovely evening. So really, they deserve it, she rationalises.

Maria spins to shoot at the kitchen and picks up a half-empty plate of pasta like an Olympic disk. As she straightens, she launches the plate right into the forehead of one of the men. The second yells as free-flying spaghetti hits him, and doesn't even get a chance to retaliate before Maria's hand grasps his skull and slams it twice into the doorway. He collapses with a pitiful groan.

Maria walks over the crumpled men into the kitchen. Instantly she has to twist to avoid the large meat cleaver that swings for her face. Instinctually, she grabs the outstretched arm of the sneering man (though it is hard to tell through that pantyhose) and digs her fist into his gut. The third time she does, he gurgles up his last meal onto her arm.

 _"Eww…"_ Maria grumbles. She pushes him away with disgust and searches the rest of the kitchen and pantry, but it seems that aren't any more assholes for her to deal with. Crashing from outside makes Maria turn on her heel to run back out, but she relaxes when a horde of police officers run in.

 _So much for a quiet dinner._


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: See first chapter + warnings**

* * *

 **Meeting Adam and Eve**

* * *

"Errr, Serge? You may want to see this." Eric, her co-worker at Berk, passed Maria an opened copy of the Gotham Gazette.

 **SEXY WAR VET SAVES LOCAL DINERS FROM NIGHT OF TERROR**

"Oh my god." Maria gapes in horror at the newspaper. Below the most melodramatic title _ever,_ a large photo of Maria takes up half the page. It must have been taken during her fight (and how irritating was it that it meant some customer decided to take a photo rather than call the police first), because she can see the men from the kitchen frozen as they raise their guns to her back. The broken glass windows are letting enough wind in to throw her wild hair back like some sort of valkyrie. Her red dress is torn up her thigh and she's glaring at the men she's just kicked over with her legs angled apart and her fists clenched.

Seeing this makes so much sense. Maria had thought it was weird that on her second day at Berk, people were gaping at her more than was normal for a new employer.

She lets her head not so softly rest against her desk while Eric tutts sympathetically. "It's not that bad. If anything, it really paints you in a good light."

"I'd prefer it _painted_ someone else," Maria grumbles. She passes the paper back to Eric a little too forcefully and adds "James was saying that you were going to assign me to the workshop."

Eric perks up at that. "Yes! He did. Why don't we do that now if you're done with your paperwork."

Walking through the workshop always serves to excite Maria; it's exactly what she dreamed when she chose her degree, but never did she imagine ever working outside the army with it. There are parallels however, as Eric explains to her.

"So at Berk, we mainly work with the government to find the best solutions to create defensive equipment. Long distance guns, rapid-fire, body armour, building defences, you name it. You may have even have worked with some of it." Eric pauses and looks at her with chagrin. "Sorry, that was inappropriate."

Maria shrugs. "I'm not a sensitive person. I believe we did in fact use the most recent desert model."

Eric laughs at that. "Oh, that's good to hear! Hey, you met Robert and Yuan yesterday right?"

Maria smiles politely at the two men she had been introduced to before. Yuan was the project head of a recent project on shock absorbent body armour, while Robert manned to technical electronics on all technology that ran through their lab. While both men were wearing the same grey lab coats with the red Berk logo, Robert was distinctive with his thick Scouse accent while Yuan was Chinese and had a chain necklace peeking out the back of his collar.

"Hello Eric, Maria." Yuan nods. "How are you finding Berk?"

"Very impressive." Maria comments simply.

"Maria is joining your team if that good for you, Yuan." Eric says while Maria straightens up at the news. "She's got a good understanding of what we're doing here, and specialised in composite materials."

Robert speaks up abruptly. "You're assigning her to the Guardian project? Isn't that a little complicated for someone without even a masters?"

Maria's eyes narrow subtly. She wasn't exactly a fan of people who spoke like she wasn't there.

Yuan however dismisses Robert's comment. "I've seen her results, Rob. The only reason she wasn't valedictorian or applied to anything further was because she was serving. Besides, we'll start you out slowly, Maria."

"I'm just saying, why isn't she assigned to-"

"James seems pretty confident about where he wanted me," Maria speaks softly, but makes sure her eyes chill into Roberts'. "But of course, if I have any need of help, I'll make sure I'll get it."

"Brilliant!" Eric laughs slightly uncomfortably. "I better get back to my work."

"That's fine; Maria, why don't I show you what we're creating. I'll see you later, Rob."

Maria follows Yuan's fast pace, distinctly aware that her back is burning.

They turn the corner to a heavy metal door, which Yuan opens with an electronic card. "Eric should have a new card for your new access by the end of the day." They walk in to find a large concrete space full of machines whirring and buzzing away with several people milling about them. At one end, a glass wall separates them from a large industrial conveyer belt with several mannequins of some sort. "I'll get a workspace cleared out for you today; I think the best way for to start is to work with some compression testing. But first, you've got to see the big guy."

Yuan grins in excitement as they got to a huge humanoid shaped robot. It is around 5m tall, made of black metal and with three large concave portholes like an underwater explorer. "This is the Juggernaut, our newest edition. It's built for heavy-duty debris clearance in a war zone, but can function to manually take out tanks and building supports as well."

Maria nods, impressed. "That certainly would have been a sight to see out there. Is this…"

"Ah! Our Adam and Eve." Yuan leads her over to a sectioned off part of the workshop, where two mannequins stand apart. They are dressed in some form-fitting mesh suit, with layered armour that seems fully attached to the fabric.

The armour on the male and female suits is slightly different; both had geometric pauldrons, tapered fingers, wrist guards and diagonally spiked braces, as well as a layer on the stomach that was segmented like abdominal muscles until the codpieces. There were however differences between them; the male's torso had a thick chest plate that joined onto a high bevor that joined into a mouthless helmet.

The female version was distinctly built for flexible movement. The sides of the torso are covered with individual plates that shifted around the tops of large triangular hip plates. The boots didn't stop at the poleyns like the other suit, but extended over the knees and resembled thigh high boots. The breastplate is slightly curved with a divot in the centre, and again broken up plates protect the sternum and up to the face.

Finally the helmet; Maria feels something in her purr when she looks into the blank mesh eye sockets. The brows are heavily arched and deep like some sort of snarling monster.

"Stunning work, aren't they? We call them the _Vulcan Guard_ , after the Roman blacksmith. Well, we were going to go with the Greek original, but 'Hephaestus' is a bit of a mouthful."

"I want to work on them." Maria declares. "If they're for military missions, I can tell you exactly what you need for them."

Yuan's grin widens at this. "I think you're going to fit right in, Sergeant."

Overall, Maria feels very satisfied with her work. By the time she walks out the workshops, she's tired but buzzing with ideas. She hasn't felt this determined since her boot camp days!

Maria's face turns cold when Robert joins her in the elevator. She ignores his shuffling next to her, silently pleased that her stance (feet slightly apart, hands clasped behind her back, shoulders and chin up) seems to be making him uncomfortable. Something about this man _really_ ticks her off.

After passing a few floors in silence, Robert coughs. When Maria ignores him, he coughs slightly more aggressively and says "You must be busy, _huh?_ Working here, then beating up people at night…that what they teach you in Iraq?"

Maria lazily turns her head towards Robert, looking down with a lifted chin. She silently glares at him. To _think_ he was the first jealous man to try and belittle her.

 _How fucking naive..._

The shorter man swallows slightly and shifts until Maria's head slowly turns back to look ahead. She grumbles internally at how slow the elevator is for such an expensive building.

"Yuan show you the ropes them? It must seem pretty complicated for you." Robert persists after harnessing some courage.

After a pause, Maria answers, "You're leaning against the button."

Robert looks at her nastily. "What was that?"

"Your _purse,"_ Maria drawls as she disdainfully gestures to his satchel, "is pressing against the button to hold the doors closed. I know it's a little complicated, but we won't be getting out unless you _move._ "

Maria takes great joy at the revolting colour Robert turns as he sputters. He does however jump away from the button pad, so Maria swiftly marches out of the elevator with a smirk, nodding to the receptionists as she passes.

Of course, her smug mood had to get a dampener in the form of a car following her home. As soon as she exits the tube station and crosses the street for the 15-minute walk home, her instincts prickle. She notes in the reflection of some shop windows that it's a black saloon with tinted windows, and she has a feeling why she's being followed.

Maria signs and keeps walking, but a few streets later, she decides that it isn't a great idea to lead her stalkers back to Eliza and Sal. If this was indeed a raging mob retaliation, it would be better to confront them, buy some time and leave town; a well-placed trail out of state would hopefully distract them for a while.

With that decided, Maria walks around the next corner and leans against a doorway, waiting for the car to coming around the corner. When it does, Maria smirks as it slows down. She could imagine the people inside looking around for her like fish in a bowl. Maria walks over and the car abruptly stops. She takes the opportunity to wait next to the door. There is a pregnant pause, then the door clicks open.

Maria lowers herself inside and closes the door, then clicks her seatbelt into place. When the car doesn't move, she lazily looks at the other passengers. Two men in the front are staring at her like she's crazy, while the man in the back next to her seems half amused. She notes the semi-automatics in the laps of the two not driving, and the cigarette teetering out of the mouth of the driver. They were all dark haired and smartly dress, which confirms her suspicions of the mob.

"So where are we going?" Maria asks politely.

"Errr, well I don't think we're supposed ta' tell-"

"15th Augusta and Laketown." The amused man grins at her charmingly. "Mr Maroni would like to talk."

"Does he now…" Maria raises an eyebrow at that.

He outright laughs her, and turns to the driver. "Quit blocking the road, Luca."

And with that, Maria is driven away by her would be kidnappers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: See first chapter + warnings**

* * *

 **The Best Cannolis**

* * *

Maria only has to ignore them for about 20 minutes before they reach a classically built townhouse in the wealthy district of Gotham. The neighbourhood is mainly red brick and white detailing, with old trees spaced fetchingly along the pavement. They pull through a guarded gate and into a garage large enough to fit several other vehicles.

When Maria steps out, she peruses the area to mark exits but does nothing to stop the men marching her in the centre of their formation. They go up the concrete steps, through the door to the main house and down a corridor until they reach their destination.

The room they enter is tastefully decorated with cream walls and red fabrics, with leather couches, several portraits with heavy looking frames and a thick elk carpet under the coffee table. Maria's eyes take this all in, resting finally on the man who has stood up upon her entry.

The first thing Maria notices about him is his presence, and feels certain that this was who had decided to accost her. The next is his eyes; an unusually pale hazel that was incredibly intense and makes Maria nervous. He's dressed in a sharp grey suit with a narrow blue tie; his dark hair is slightly long but neatly gelled back and he holds a handsome presence despite missing part of his outer right eyebrow.

"Sir, we brought you Miss Coast. She, err, actually decided to join us without complaint." The talker of her stalker crew informed the other man

At that, their boss's eyebrows goes up then he barks out a loud laugh. "Well ain't that refreshing. You, _you_ are a looker, that's for sure." He grins he stalks forwards. "Oh, where are my manners? Vincent Maroni." He holds out his hand to Maria, only for her hand to be kissed as Donito did.

"Sergeant Maria Coast."

Vincent laughs again. "Very impressive! My boys tell me you're working for the big wigs at Berk now, huh? Not every day you find a woman who likes ta' shoot _and_ make guns."

Maria decides not to correct him that she technically is working on body armour. Instead, she smiles as if she doesn't feel incredibly belittled for the third time that day. "That's very kind of you to say, Mr Maroni-"

"Vincent, I insist. You want some coffee or somethin'? I thought we could have an early dinner." He leads an increasingly confused Maria to sit on a couch opposite him.

"I'm…fine for now thank you," Maria says hesitantly. "May I ask what was the reason for our meeting, Mr Maroni?"

She stares at him slightly bewildered when he pouts at her. "What, a guy can't ask a beautiful girl ta' dinner? You don't gotta worry, my chef is the real deal, you'll never find a guy who can make cannoli like my guy does."

Maria blinks at him. "Ok."

Again Vincent chuckles. "You ain't much of talker, are you?" At that Maria shrugs. "I gotta admit, you're different from what I thought you'd be." He paused to stare at her thought, before yelling, _"Danny!_ Why is the lady still wearing her coat?!"

Immediately the talking man from the car steps forward to peel off her winter coat once she's stood up. Her composure breaks a little when the low whistle Vincent gives her makes her go red. Maria isn't exactly provocatively dressed though, just a little formally for her first few days at work; an emerald pencil skirt hugs her legs all the way down to her perfectly polished flats, while her bronze silk shirt softly flows over her. Her brown hair is neatly wrapped into a bun, but her face is as pale as usual with only some chapstick to combat the cold weather.

Without taking his eyes off of her, Vincent offers her his arm, which she gingerly accepts, and walks them to the next room over where a small but fully laid dinner table sits decadently. He pulls out her chair at one end and lets his thumbs brush her shoulders before moving to sit across from Maria. An uncomfortable shiver runs through her at that.

A waiter comes out to lift the covers off their foods, but other than the two of them dining, several men stand (in Maria's eyes somewhat obnoxiously) along the edge of the room.

Vincent sees where her eyes go. "Don't worry about them. You got nothin' ta' worry about." Maria's eyes slips back to his without a word. "You wanna say grace?"

After a pause, Maria admits, "I'm afraid I don't know how to, Mr Maroni."

That sends him into another round of laughter. "Miss Coast, _where_ have you been eating? Ahh, don't matter, I'll do it." He grins even more when Maria slowly holds out her hand like he was feral. He took it, and murmured " _Benedici, Signore, noi e questi tuoi doni, che stiamo per ricevere dalla tua generosità. Per Cristo nostro Signore_."

Maria copies Vincent's movements and starts to cut a piece of well-cooked asparagus. She slowly chews, and couldn't help but marvel at the favours. After a few moments of her quietly eating and him opening watching her, she says, "This is delicious."

Vincent smirks proudly as if he's the cook. "Ain't it? I always say that a good meal gotta taste like home and smell like a banquet hall."

Maria chuckles softly, which makes him sit up in his seat. "Well put, then." She takes a sip of the wine, hiding her grimace as she wishes for water instead. "Mr Maroni-"

"Please, Vincent, I insisted again, _Signora."_

Maria can't help but smile at that as well. "I don't think that's appropriate, Mr Maroni. Especially in the circumstances."

"What's wrong with the circumstances?" Vincent persists. "Here we are, a man and a woman, eating a lovely dinner and getting' ta' know each other. There a law against that?"

"No, I suppose there isn't, but we don't really know each other at the moment. And, by circumstances, I mean that you are a man who has sent your men to a restaurant that I was present at, and I am a woman who beat up said men and have only avoided being kidnapped by more of your by willingly going with them."

The room tenses notably as Vincent gapes at her, then throws his head back and roars with laughter. "You are a firecracker, Miss Coast." He wags his finger at her playfully. "Very candid, which I can respect. I find that it is a rare quality, don't ya' think so? I guess you must be wondering why ya' ain't in a ditch somewhere, _ey?"_

Maria nods, watching Vincent closely at the slight edge in his voice as he continues. "I gotta admit, when I heard some broad had ruined a perfectly good business transaction, I was, ha! Yeah, I was pretty fuckin' angry. Our mutual acquaintance, Mr Donito, has not been a good friend to me, ya' know. But then I see that picture of you in the papers, have ya' seen it? Goddamn!" He laughs, "I thought ta' myself, now _that_ is a fiery woman, and I knew I didn't wanna kill you. Why would I crush such a beautiful rose? Not only will my mother tell me I'm an anarchist, but that I'm a goddamn idiot to complain about getting thorns in my hands! So, I figured I gotta meet this girl, and boy am I glad I did."

Maria gapes at him for a moment. "That…wasn't what I was expecting."

Vincent grins boyishly at her. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that, Miss Coast. I guess we feel the same way about each other then, huh?"

"So here we now are, eating dinner together…would you like to talk about the incident, Mr Maroni?" She says hesitantly.

"Nah, what's the point? I get it, I do. Some guy points a gun at you, and if ya' got the skills ta' fight back, it's instinct, ain't it? How about we move on from that Miss Coast. I would _prefer_ if ya' don't go back to Donito's restaurant; I'd have to advise against that move. But now, I want ta' get to know you."

Maria looks at him like he was crazy. "But why? I'm not exactly a novel person."

"I think I gotta disagree with _that,_ sweetheart. C'mon, how d'you end up in our Army forces with that accent. Very lovely, by the way."

"Well, I am American, but I was educated in England." She relents.

 _"Really."_ Vincent grins. "You read a lot of Chaucer?"

At that Maria sighs, starting to relax a bit. "Yes actually. And far too much Hardy."

"How about your parents? What do they do?"

"I don't know." Maria says bluntly then expands at his expression. "I moved overseas with a foster family, but…there were complications, and I spent most of my time at a boarding school until I came back 17. I don't keep in contact with them."

"So you don't know your real parents? That's a crying shame." Vincent says with what Maria realises is actually sympathy. "I bet you got some Italian blood in you though."

"Oh?" Maria says with amusement. "And how about yourself, Mr Maroni? What was your schooling like?"

"Boring as hell. I'm no scholar, that's for sure. But I'm a Gothamite born an' bred." Vincent states proudly.

Maria tilts her head, which he copies coyly. "And what does being a Gothamite mean to you?"

"What me to show you?"

Maria raises her eyebrows, then laughs at his eager expression. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to agree to something I don't understand."

At that, he sniggers as well. "Clever lady." He turned to the waiter and clicked roughly. "Go get dessert for my esteemed guest."

Dessert turns out to be the aforementioned cannolis, which are as stated, heaven sent. Maria, being someone who rarely eats sweets or anything outside of refuelling her body, gasps at the divine creaminess inside.

Vincent watches her chew, enraptured. "You like them?"

"Yes." Maria agrees simply, before biting into another. To her embarrassment, she bites hard enough to squirt a little cream onto her cheek.

As she flounders to find her serviette, Vincent practically bounds over with a gruff, "Allow me." He whips out his jacket handkerchief and slowly cups Maria's face, softly dabbing away the cream. He pauses to stare into her large eyes, and almost looks like he is going to lean towards her further. Very softly, Maria rests her own hand over his to remove it and utters an almost silent "Thank you."

He straightens and moves back. "You must be tired, _Signora._ My boys will give ya' a lift home."

"That's very kind of you, thank you."

"Nonsense," He waves her off with another grin. "What kinda guy would make a beautiful lady walk home?" As he speaks, Danny comes back with Maria's coat. "Here, give that ta' me."

Once Maria stands, she turns to allow Vincent to slip her coat on again. "Please tell your chef how much I enjoyed his creations, Mr Maroni."

"Ah, he'll be happy to hear that," Vincent agrees amiably, then mischievously asks her, "Say, would I be 'too inappropriate' if I asked ya' to dinner again sometime?"

Maria pauses to actually assess what he's asking, and as she does, he straightens like a prize stallion. "No, I don't believe it would be inappropriate, though perhaps you should call first."

Vincent chuckles again. "You got me there, sweetheart. I'd like to thank you for being such swell company, Miss Coast." He grasps her hand to once again kiss it, lingering slightly longer than necessary.

Maria smiles softly at him. "It was a pleasure, Mr Maroni. Have a good evening."

As Danny escorts her away, she looks back to say goodbye as Vincent calls "Till next time, Miss Coast!"

When the two of them are in the car, this time with Danny driving and Maria sitting next to him, Danny turns to her and asks, "You are quite the snake charmer there, sweetheart."

Maria arches an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"What? You're telling me you came with us today 'cause you were expecting a dinner date with an invitation to part two?" He drawls sarcastically.

"Keep driving, _Danny."_ She grumbles.

Soon she is lost in her thoughts. She wasn't exactly comfortable with the little touches and looks Vincent Maroni had given her, but she could admit that she liked his company, and he sure was a charmer. He seemed too young to be the head of a crime fairly, maybe only a few years older than her, so she hypothesised that he was in charge of a part of the mob family business. Maria knew it wasn't exactly clever to get involved with the mob dynamics of Gotham, but there was no way she would've not done what she had at the restaurant. With this outcome, she wouldn't have to skip town and leave the Ghiandonis and her new job.

And honestly, how dangerous could another dinner date be?

* * *

 **Re posting this chapter because I accidentally skipped out the real chapter 7 ahhhhh...everything is in the correct order now! Thanks for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: See first chapter + warnings**

* * *

 **Nonchalance For Infamy**

* * *

Maria considers staying quiet about her detour home, but it's difficult to when Eliza grills her about coming home 4 hours later than usual. The response to her retelling of her evening is not great; Sal starts calling her a dumbass and throwing things around the kitchen, while Eliza starts to sob and recite scripture at her. Maria eventually calms them down by telling them that it's better to be friends with the mafia rather than on their hit list and this way they don't have to skip town.

She goes up to her room after that but finds it far too tense in there as well. The worried voices of her landlords waft up to her and are clearer with her enhanced hearing. After a few moments of glumly staring at a wall, Maria strips out of her clothes and shoves them into the laundry basket in the corner, then cleanses herself in the bathroom. When she can still hear the voices below, Maria decides that a night-time run is in order.

She grabs a worn pair of trackies that she's owned since joining the army and a newer black hoodie that is zipped up to her neck. She ties her boots on securely and then climbs out onto the outside ledge of her window. In the dark, no one below sees Maria twist and pull herself up the drainpipe to the rooftop. Maria sucks in a deep breath, and then throws herself forward, crossing the gap to the next rooftop in one gazelle-like leap. Not a moment is wasted as she continues on with the same intensity along the skyline of Gotham, letting her thoughts blank and with a wide gleam in her eye.

Finally, Maria finds herself climbing up the tiled turrets of a church with a sloping graveyard. She digs her nails in-between each plate and hooks herself up as she elongates her nails, relishing the burn of keratin piercing flesh and the lurching of her biceps. At the top, she swings up into a crouch with the balls of her feet pressed against the horizontal bar of the large crucifix steeple. With the persistent wind, her loose braid comes undone and sweeps around her like some ragged flag.

Up here, away from the wandering eyes of Gotham's citizens, Maria doesn't have to hide. With a controlled exhale, she feels the tell tale rippling through her body as her eyes glow blood red, her teeth twist to points and her skin and hair begin to shine white in the moonlight.

Tonight, a different kind of Dark Knight watches over Gotham.

* * *

 _It feels like Maria is destined to run forever in the cold, scratched from branches and terrified._

 _Her escape was ironically possible because of Bobby. As she cried into her mattress that night, Maria turns over when a soft click comes from the door. Her eyes widen when she sees Bobby close the door behind him._

 _"What are you doing? Go away, Bobby!" Maria snarls, enraged when he chuckles at her._

 _"Don't be like that, sweetheart. You're not stuck outside now, are you?"_

 _Maria shuffled away frantically and Bobby kneeled over her. "You said you were taking me home, Bobby! You lied to me! I_ hate _you!"_

 _Bobby slaps a hand over his heart. "Ah, you wound me! It's not so mad here, and it's your new home now. Hey, I bet I can cheer you up though." Maria yelped as he grabbed her ankle and pulled._

 _"Stop it! What are you-mmm!" Maria's protests are squashed when Bobby's chapped lips smash into hers. She's revolted, terrified as she helplessly fights under his body. The panic gets worse when she feels Bobby's sickly hand stroke down her stomach and rub between her legs. She is hyperventilating, blood pumping into her head like a sledgehammer and all she can grasp is her terror and the rage she feels and how dare he as she feels him groan against her._

 _Then like a popping gas tap, Maria feels ripples through her skull and something drives her to drive her sharpening teeth into Bobby's jugular._

 _There is so much blood, and Maria is intoxicated with vengeance and the hot liquid flooding her mouth. It's the most delicious thing she's ever had, she's in ecstasy…until she registers the stomping coming up the stairs. Maria scampers to stand behind where the door will swing open, and waits to slip out as soon as Bobby distracts them._

* * *

Almost a month after meeting Vincent, Eliza storms up to Maria and says. _"Bella,_ get a godforsaken cell phone."

Maria looks down at her with bemusement. "Why? Who's going to be calling me?"

"How about Vincent Maroni who wants to you to know that he'll be picking you up at 6 to go to the _opera."_ Eliza snaps. "I almost had a heart attack when I answered."

"The opera?" Maria gapes then scowls. "He's just assuming that I have no plans today?"

Eliza shoots her a warning look. "Be careful with men in this business, Maria. You're lucky that he just wants a beautiful date to the opera house and not a new mantelpiece."

"I _don't_ like being ordered around by some man."

"Well then think about how much you want to survive this mess." Eliza snaps again. She then sighs and patted Maria's arm. "I'm sorry, _Bella._ Sal and I are just worried."

At that Maria, face turns solemn. "It's my fault you two are involved; I shouldn't have made a scene at Donito's."

"Ahh, you were protecting us, and maybe we would not be here today if you weren't so brave. We're proud of you, Maria."

Maria stares at Eliza's retreating form, then shakes her head and followed her down to the kitchen. _No one's ever said that to me before…_ She thinks numbly.

As usual, Sal is keenly invested in the morning paper. When the two women enter, he grins and points to the front page. "Hey, looks like you've got competition, Maria!"

Bemused, she takes the paper from him and begins to read out loud.

" **New Vigilante Saves Schoolgirls.**

 **Several reports of a new masked protector of Gotham have been circulating this month, with eyewitnesses giving detailed a description to the police. Emily Tucker, with her sister Hannah and their friend Joanne Liley were walking home late this Saturday when they were cornered by a gang of armed men. Before police could respond or any injury could come to the terrified girls, and 'tall and terrifying' figure dropped into the street and began to fight off the gang members**

 **Miss Liley describes the scene to us; 'We were so scared, all we could do was watch as this guy beat them up. They were like some sort of ninja; they dodged everything and even threw one guy into a wall! When they were done, we realised it was a woman, 'cause she told us to go home, and that 'she'd be watching!'.**

 **Several other reports have linked this female fighter to another case where an unknown figure of the same description prevented a robbery in a small corner store in North Gotham, a breaking and entering near the Palisades and multiple individual assault attempts in the Narrows. On every occasion, the perpetrators of these crimes were left unconscious at the scene for police to apprehend. This newspaper ventures to call our new masked saviour a 'Spectre' of the city, as in most reports she calmed victims by saying that she would 'be watching' until the police arrived. Our contacts in the GCPD state that the police have no statement to release on the matter.** "

Once she's done reading, Maria's eyes wander over the police sketch of herself. She's pleasantly surprised at how accurate it was. The drawing is of a slim, broad female figure in a black hoodie pulled over long white locks. The face has a plain bandana covering the lower face and neck, while a set of thick ski goggles cover the rest of the face.

"'The Spectre'?" Maria questions with a raised eyebrow.

Eliza laughs. "I'm fairly certain they meant 'spectator'."

"I bet some intern's gonna get fired for not spottin' that." Sal sniggers. "Can you imagine pissin' off some hardass like that by callin' them an omen of evil?"

"Well it's not necessarily an insult," Eliza argues. "It usually means a phantom or apparition, Sal."

"Are you really correcting me fer' the sake of it, woman?"

With a smirk, Maria passes the newspaper back. Looks like I won't have to save _another_ restaurant. She thought as the Ghiandonis began to bicker again.


End file.
